


Once Upon A Nightmare

by Psychedelic_dreams_01



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, brief mention of other Avengers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychedelic_dreams_01/pseuds/Psychedelic_dreams_01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been almost a year since the attack in New York and only a few months since the threat of the Mandarin had been removed. And over all, the entire year had taken too much of a toll on Pepper who had left Tony not too long after he'd helped her be stabalised again. </p>
<p>And Tony Stark himself wasn't fairing so well after being moved back to the now rebuilt Avengers tower, the past events still being too much for him to handle at times. </p>
<p>[Basically Tony has an anxiety attack and Steve Rogers is the first person to try help him calm down. Two-shot unless requests for more]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary says, this takes place after the first Avengers film and the Iron Man 3 film. And me being me, my love for the Stony pairing is way too much for this fic not to be based off of them, even though it’s a very subtle hint at them liking each other/the beginning of their feelings.  
> I’m also putting a little change to the IM3 film ending, with it being that he doesn’t blow up the suits after the battle. I’m also making it that after he helps Pepper to stabilise the Extremis, she breaks up with him because of reasons I will talk a little about in the story itself. If you’re still confused, feel free to just ask ^^
> 
> This is also my first time writing these people so feedback will be much appreciated! I'd also like to briefly say that a friend of mine came up with all titles, so thank you for that hun xP

Tony stretched out with a groan as at last this suit was finished, six hours straight of work leaving him with only a handful of armour that still needed fixing. A lot of suits had been damaged in his last fight with that guy… Killi…Gill? Gillian? No, that wasn’t it…

Well, him. That guy. The guy that was no longer after Tony locked him into a suit that had self-destructed. 

And honestly, remembering (or not as it was) the name of the last man he’d fought was the least of his problems. He wasn’t faring too well after a sleepless night (read: week) followed by the incessant repairs he was making on each of the suits that had made it back in a decent enough condition not to be scrapped. He raised a hand, rubbing at his face in an attempt to liven himself up a little. All it did was spread the oil he hadn’t quite managed to remove from his hands onto his face, Tony only noticing as he glanced up at himself in a reflective piece of metal. He sighed in irritation as he grabbed a cleaner cloth, hopefully removing all marks off of both his hands and face, wanting to at least look decent.   
After all, once he left this workshop, he wasn’t sure who he’d meet out there, what with his return to the Stark tower, the other avengers (except Thor who was still up in Asgard) having already shifted themselves to live here too. 

Well, it was now the Avengers tower, not just his. Fury was trying to teach him to share, it seemed. 

Go figure anyway that returning here hadn’t been his own choice. Not after the nightmares and anxiety this place had taken a part in, keeping him up at night and, more often than not, keeping him to busy himself with repairing all of the suits, drowning himself in work and caffeine with the occasional alcoholic binge; but the latter was a rare event. Only when Tony felt at his lowest and in any case, he always paid for them by waking up clawing at his head, trying to remove the remnants of a dream that was all too real with a hangover to boot.   
So no, Tony Stark wasn’t particularly happy about being told that after the entire ‘Mandarin’ affair he would be better off in the tower, out of the way and laying low for a while with the other Avengers to keep an eye on him. 

Not like they needed to keep a particularly close eye on him anyway; he barely left his workshop. 

He’d fallen back into the habits he had all that time ago, before Pepper had had enough of the danger he kept putting her in- not that it was just for that reason that she had left him, but of course, getting captured and almost dying was indeed a step too far for anyone. Tony could understand and respect that, as much as it still hurt.   
In any case, he’d gone back to the working constantly, distracting himself from any of those thoughts, only this time Tony didn’t have somebody who could hold him at night, keep the dreams from ever getting too close— he didn’t have any of that anymore, so as much as he could, he was trying to forgo the entire sleeping thing. 

Sleep is for the weak anyway, right?

A sigh escaped the man as at last he tossed this cloth onto the nearest work surface, running a hand through his hair this time and trying to blink away the exhaustion, deciding another round of coffee wouldn’t go amiss.   
He headed to the office-style coffee machine he had so cleverly placed in the corner of the room, (no need to go up to the kitchen for refills, genius idea!) taking his time selecting what he wanted before groaning in frustration. 

He hit it. Hitting it would work. 

“Sir, I believe it is out of—”

“I know, I know just letting it know how I feel.” Tony replied to the AI, giving the machine one last irritated look before turning to head out of the workshop.

Okay, so maybe sometimes he had to go to the kitchen for refills. 

~**~

Tony had been in the kitchen for barely five minutes, but thankfully he had met no one on the way or in this area. Well, there was currently Natasha, Clint and Bruce on the couch from what he could see, but so far he hadn’t attempted to speak to them and nor they to him so for now, no contact.   
He sighed as he turned back from glancing over his shoulder to check on the three on the couch, seeing them just as he’d left them- only Banner was now paying more attention to the book in his hands than the TV- Tony continuing to pour his coffee in the mug he’d brought up and washed, sighing as he left it to cool for a little while. He needed to restock the machine downstairs, searching the cupboards for the beans and on the way finding an almost finished batch of chocolate bars, shrugging as he took one. 

A little bit of food now and then wasn’t going to hurt. 

“Oh look who’s finally decided to show himself.” 

Tony wouldn’t admit the small jump the voice had caused him, turning from his position to give the blonde in question a small once over, his eyes flicking very briefly from the man’s face, downwards and back.   
Steve Rogers had just come back up from the gym if the white shirt and trousers he usually wore to go do such activities were anything to go by, the man’s face not necessarily unfriendly as he gave a half smile at Tony. He had been sweating, that much was clear, and Steve’s hair was not quite as neat as he usually made it, rather tousled up probably from both his own hand and all the movement he’d been doing. 

“Didn’t know you missed me that much.” Tony replied, glancing then behind himself, loosely gesturing with his half eaten chocolate over his shoulder at the cupboards. “Hey, you don’t happen to know if we’ve ran out of coffee?”

After returning the quick look over, Steve sighed, shrugging, Tony watching him head to the fridge for a cooled bottle of water. 

“Well, if there’s none over there then yes, we’ve run out.” 

After a muttered curse, Tony picked up his mug and started to move to leave as he spoke. “Right so the next person who heads out has to go get some. Someone should make a note of that.” 

“And where are you going so soon? Hopefully not back into that room you haven’t left since you got here.” 

Tony paused at the remark, turning to give Steve a small, put on pout.

“You make it sound as if I do nothing but sit and stare at the wall in ‘that room’ as you so eloquently put it. Besides, what can I say? I get too into my work.” 

He turned once again, but instead of heading back towards the stairs that lead away from this open space, he headed out towards the windows facing the city. It wasn’t particularly what he wanted to do, but he’d rather linger up here for a few minutes than have Steve come try pester him after he returned to his workshop. He didn’t really like other people going in there uninvited, preferring to have that room as his own personal space.   
So for now he stood by the windows, not really looking out of them but focusing more on the TV that currently was playing the ending of some film or other, Tony not entirely sure that he recognised it.   
It wasn’t like he had long to try figure out if he’d seen it before or not anyway as, before he knew it, the credits were rolling, Bruce glancing up from his book briefly as Natasha and Clint started to talk together- presumably about the film. 

And so Tony absentmindedly drank his coffee as he watched the two discuss the way they felt the film had developed, what they liked and disliked about it and their favourite parts, occasionally dragging Bruce into their conversation despite the fact that he’d mostly been reading—as he kept trying to reiterate to them before giving some half hearted answer and then turning back to his book.   
No one really noticed, therefore, Steve as he came into the room, holding his water bottle still and giving those having a mini argument a small amused look, not taking part in it but seating himself down on one end of the couch. He seemed to listen in for a while, of course getting dragged in too anyway (as often was the case with anyone nearby when Clint was arguing about anything with anyone). 

He didn’t want to get caught staring and be brought into their chatter, so he moved to place his back towards them, after staring for just a bit longer, looking out of the window again. 

Unfortunately for him however, Tony still remembered the slap of anxiety when he’d first looked out of this window upon arriving here. It had been an improvement seeing how, before hand, even the mention of the words ‘New York’ could set him on edge, and now he was in that same state, in literally the same building that stood directly below where he had entered the… 

That was where he cut himself off, Tony taking in a deep breath, holding it for a moment as he turned his eyes downwards to stare at his shoes and count to ten.

No. 

Nope, no, nopety-nope. 

He would not let his thoughts go there, not right now and hopefully not ever. At least, not while the thoughts still brought about the tremble in his hands and the tightness that already had started to edge across each rib, trying to calm the feeling with more deep breaths.   
Tony turned yet again, his back to the window, deciding that for now the small table with the potted plant on it was a good enough stand for his mug, his grip feeling a little weak as he tried to just regain himself, already feeling his heart beating subtly quicker. 

Why the hell did this have to happen to him? And now? 

Gritting his teeth, Tony glanced over to the couch to see if any other people present had noticed him, thankful to see that they hadn’t. Clint was muttering to himself in clear irritation, probably at having been outnumbered by Natasha and Steve who currently were both watching the news, Bruce meanwhile still into his book. 

What he wasn’t thankful to see however, was the date on the screen in the corner, the wonderful fact that tomorrow would make it an entire year since that day popping into his mind, taking over most other thoughts and halting all efforts to try calm himself. 

Tony took in a sharp breath at that, the reminder really not what he needed or wanted right now, finding it harder and harder to not loose himself to the claws of panic that were making it difficult to tell what was going on around him, his hand now supporting himself on the table he’d placed his mug on. 

He heard it before he saw it, they all did, the shattering of glass and whine of thrusters making everyone present collectively jump and alert, as metal parts flew into the room, breaking the walls and anything else they couldn’t evade on their path to Tony. 

They reached him, the surprise on his own face visible as he staggered backwards slightly after each part of the suit engulfed him, spreading and connecting to each other across his body as it morphed into the full armour, helmet attaching itself as almost one of the first pieces, clamping down the moment it could. 

Now everyone was staring at Tony who stared back, knowing that they were waiting for an explanation, judging from the half glares, half confused looks he was receiving and anyway, this wasn’t really a situation which he could easily get away with. 

He forced a laugh.

“I-it’s been glitching out since I last wore it to battle,” he tried, opening the helmet and giving everyone what he hoped was a convincing ‘normal’ look, also hoping they had ignored the very subtle waver in his voice and stutter. 

He shrugged, trying for a slightly exasperated look.

“For some reason it takes every move I make to be a call for it.”

Clint gave the other two beside him a brief glance while Natasha and Steve just gave him stares. He knew they could tell something was off. Bruce seemed to be the only one that took the story (and even if he didn’t, it was clear he wasn’t liking what was happening), nervously glancing at the other three before at Tony- who was now trying to make his escape.

“Geez, no need to stare at me as if I’ve just killed someone,” Tony started, attempting at his normal self as he raised his hands in mock surrender, starting to walk forwards. “I’ll go sort it out.” 

Actually, this wasn’t such a bad turn of events, he thought, finding the suit hid his shaking and aided his slightly numb legs in walking as he tried to start on his way, his balance a little better with the suit’s help.

“Stark.” Steve’s tone was warning, calling for immediate attention from Tony who had barely taken three steps- but for now, he ignored it, wanting nothing more than to get away as quickly as he possibly could. 

But Steve repeated the call of his name, louder and more demanding this time that, only to try keep up appearances, had Tony stop with a huff, turning to look at the super soldier. 

His snarky response however was cut off, as from this position- directly behind the couch but right in front of the TV- he was assaulted with images from the news broadcast that seemed to have picked up on the same facts that he had barely a minute ago. 

The image of the reporter vanished as the clips appeared, cameras focused on people running out in utter chaos, away from the oncoming danger that moved to a shot of the gaping hole in the sky that was allowing the hundreds and hundreds of creatures to swarm into the planet, amateur footage of the avengers on the ground fighting, amateur footage of him, Tony Stark, Iron Man, leading a nuke straight up and out of sight, into the darkness in the sky. There was commentary too, but only the speaker seemed to know what they were saying.

Steve had also been talking, but none of it had registered. 

His name had been called by another avenger- don’t ask which, he couldn’t tell. 

The TV was now switched off, but he could still see the darkness engulf his body, the same kind of blank that he now was staring at swallowing him, the edges of his vision wavering just like it was then as the suit’s helmet clamped down, flickering to life. 

But then it had been flickering off, hadn’t it? 

And he couldn’t breathe, oh God he couldn’t breathe. 

He couldn’t feel either, the static heavy on his feet like boots, bringing him to his knees as his skin continued to numb, his arms too feeling heavy and useless, the suit just a cage for his body; a cage, a case, a coffin. 

And he still couldn’t breathe, no matter what the tightness in his chest only seemed to increase and- and he was running out of air. 

He was going to lose consciousness soon, he knew it, could feel it coming, there wasn’t enough air, he’d lose consciousness and then be trapped there forever, just like he was about to back then, in that hole in space and not enough air— 

The helmet was wrenched from its place and yet done with care, the face panel being pried upwards and there was a face that, through his panic, Tony had to take a moment to realise belonged to Captain Steve Rogers. 

There was a hand on his shoulder- he could see it but not feel it, not with the metal plating separating them as he stared almost blankly at the man before him, still struggling to breathe, convinced he was about to pass out making the panic grab hold of him further. His lungs were fire. 

“Tony, look at me, you’re safe. You’re okay. There’s nothing here that can hurt you.” Steve’s tone was soothing, calm. It sounded convincing but the thrashing of his heart said otherwise, Tony shaking his head as his entire body continued to tremble, almost obvious from outside the armour. 

He could feel himself being pushed back, moving without any protest to sit rather than kneel on all fours, making it easier to look up at Steve who was still there, seeking his attention. 

“No, you’re alright, you’re safe, just look at me and breathe with me, okay? You’re going to be fine.” 

And so Tony tried just that, trying to slow his pace to match the quickened one Steve was providing as a guide line, managing it for only a few seconds before he had to gasp in air desperately, trying again at the sound of encouragement from Steve—who kept slowing his pace the moment he felt Tony was able to copy him.

God knows how long they were doing that for.

Hours? It sure felt like it to Tony. 

It was probably only a few minutes, barely more than twenty if not that. 

Only, now that the dizziness had passed and Tony could focus on something other than trying to keep conscious had he realised that he was gripping onto Steve’s arm, what looked to be a painfully tight grip. 

He let go, moving his hand back down to the floor, muttering an apology. 

Had this been any other situation Steve would have raised a brow at those words, but right now, he shook his head. 

“You have nothing to apologise for. Are you feeling any better?” 

It took Tony a moment to reply. After all, despite having regained the skill of breathing, he was shaking worse than before- that or it just hadn’t registered exactly how much he was trembling before hand. His heart too was still beating abnormally fast, while his lungs were still recovering. 

“Well, I’ve re-learnt the concept of breathing so that’s a start.” 

Trust him to turn anything into as much of a joke as he could.

At least it earned him a smile from Steve, one that both was telling him that the Captain was glad to see he was better but also half annoyed at Tony’s way of putting it. 

Silence seemed to follow that, during which Tony moved to sit a little more comfortably, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stand up until his legs regained their feeling. 

He was starting to register everything else around him too now, noticing that Steve and himself were the only two in the room and that the man before him was kneeling as well. He only just noticed that the place he’d taken hold of on Steve’s arm during that attack was already bruising, eyes casting themselves away and further towards his own lap. Of course he knew that the marks would probably fade within the day due to the serum, but all the same, Tony felt a bad about that.   
Steve seemed to be allowing this silence too, watching carefully however- carefully enough to notice the exact moment Tony realised his mouth and throat felt like they had never been introduced to water before. 

“Wait here, I’ll go get you something to drink, okay?” He didn’t even bother to ask as, after just a moment of hesitation to give Tony one more look over, Steve stood, walking particularly fast to the kitchen.

It was clear he didn’t want to leave Tony alone for too long, and for that… well, honestly? 

Honestly, Tony Stark felt grateful. 

He felt like someone at last cared— yes, he had been hiding these attacks, but it just wasn’t in him to reach out; and if he did do so, it was done subtly, in hopes of getting the attention of a friend who knew him well- one of the avengers who noticed the little hints he let loose every so often.   
So when that didn’t work, Tony had retracted back into himself, repeating the message that he could care for himself without any aid, that he didn’t need someone else to help him out. He would be fine. 

He always was fine.

But this side of him that now was developing into some sort of warm, writhing sensation within him was being challenged by his own pride and self-consciousness.   
That part of him was telling him to get out of there, that he was being stupid, his problems were stupid. After all, the event he was freaking out over was almost a year old. It had passed so long ago and here he was, safe and yet panicking, calling the damn suit to him when he so much as twitched. He should be embarrassed. 

Hell, he was embarrassed. 

And the more Tony came out of his panic and calmed, the more he felt awkward and stupid; Tony Stark sitting in the middle of the living room with the armour on his body absorbing the rest of his tremors, Captain America fetching him something to drink and trying to keep him calm- well, it was simply a ridiculous situation!

So, while he could only hear Steve in the kitchen, opening a cupboard and getting him that drink, Tony started to pull himself upright, able to stand by himself with little aid from the suit now that his legs had mostly regained their feeling, standing there for a moment to be extra sure he wasn’t just about to topple over.   
It was at this point in time his body decided to tell him that no sleep for a few days straight paired with the draining skills of an anxiety attack had taken a lot more out of him than he had realised. 

But there was no time to think about the way his body ached and eyes wanted to close if he wanted to get out of there before Steve—

“Hey, Tony, take it easy.” 

What had he just been thinking? 

The blonde had taken approximately four strides to reach him, water remaining un-spilt in one hand as the other took a careful hold of Tony’s elbow, already guiding him to sit on the couch. 

“Ah, no, I’m fine. I just was, uh, about to go put the suit back- I mean, I gotta fix this glitch. Can’t really have it come to me when I just sneeze while out, right? Media would go nuts over that...” Barely five seconds and already Tony was responding with his usual rambles, having pulled himself out of Steve’s hold and taken one step out of his reach and two steps towards his goal of getting away. 

“You are not working on the suit after this.” Steve’s tone was trying to be gentle and yet commanding as he spoke, barely taking one step to reach Tony and yet again take a careful hold of his arm, trying to get him to sit. 

“Hey, I’m fine now, I don’t need anything else.”

“Tony...”

“No, look, I can walk fine, I’m not shaking or freaking out anymore-”

“Tony.”

“-I’m good, I don’t need any help, see? Just let me get back to working on th-”

“Stark.” 

This time the Captain had a proper hold upon his arm, Tony having attempted at walking away again, getting only five steps further than where they were moments ago. He still held the glass of water in the other hand as he fixed a glare onto the man before him, brows furrowed half in frustration and yet concern evident too—an emotion which Tony still couldn’t understand the reasons behind. 

Steve sighed, slipping out of the formal, commanding voice he’d used seconds ago, forcing himself to relax. 

“Look, Tony, I can’t just let this go so easily, okay? I’m worried about you; first you never leave that workshop of yours and now that you do, you have an attack. No, I’m not going to ask if this is what’s been happening down there or how often you’ve had these and so on,” he continued, having raised his voice slightly to cut out the obvious retort Tony was going to reply with, “ that’s for another time, but I am going to demand that you go straight to bed. I don’t care that it’s only twelve, but you haven’t been sleeping, have you?” 

For now, Tony couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes, his brown avoiding the searching blue as instead they fell just to the side of his face, trailing down to look off to the floor.   
Exhaustion was winning out, and Tony was losing the front he so desperately tried to keep up, allowing the truth behind his mask to show; his eyes clearly displayed the lack of sleep and he didn’t doubt that the bags under them were blindingly obvious too.   
He knew he probably looked like trash as at last he looked up to meet Steve’s gaze, knowing too that for this, there was no talking his way out of it.

“At least let me go put the suit away properly.” 

A curt nod and a small smile was the response, Steve for now letting go of Tony’s arm and instead offering him the water, taking back the glass as Tony downed it in seconds, his coffee being forgotten beside the potted plant as he walked out the room.   
Steve really didn’t leave his side for longer than it took to put down the empty glass in the kitchen, beside Tony as they took the lift down to his workshop, ignoring for now the rubble littering the floor- that could be dealt with at a later date. 

~**~ 

It hadn’t taken long for the two of them to be in Tony’s room, Steve having refused to just leave the genius to get himself into bed because frankly, he knew that leaving him alone would probably end up with Tony creeping back into the workshop a few minutes after he left.   
They’d gone into the workshop, Steve having taken the time it took for the suit to be put back into its place to frown at the state of the area; to say the least it looked like a tip and it really showed that Tony had barely left the place for the last week. 

Anyway, for now Steve didn’t broach the topic, waiting for Tony to come back out of the bathroom as he just glanced about the bedroom instead. 

This place was the opposite of the workshop.

It was untouched. Everything was in perfect order. 

“Tony, how long has it actually been since you’ve slept properly?” Steve called, walking closer to the door of the en suite in hopes of being heard better.

There was silence for a moment bar the sound of water running and the faint splash as presumably Tony continued to wash. 

“Well, I’ve honestly been too busy working on my suits. You know how I loose track of time when working. So the simple answer I guess is: I don’t actually know.” 

The door opened with a soft sound, Tony coming out with his hair slightly damp where it was close to his face, shirt having been lost and trousers changed to clean ones. He’d washed his hands and face too, in somewhat of an attempt to keep the sheets cleaner than they would have been otherwise—yes he still felt particularly grimy, but he was just too shattered to have a proper shower. That could wait till morning. 

“Really Stark, I’m going to have to start getting JARVIS to tell me when you’ve been up for an entire day at this rate.” 

Steve was frowning as Tony glanced at him, giving a small grin and approaching the bed, pulling back the covers. 

“JARVIS won’t do that ‘cause he’s a good boy that I programmed and will do as I say. Isn’t that right JARVIS?” 

“Well sir, I would have to agree with you due to—”

“See? Now if you don’t mind I’d like to sleep without you watching over me. I’m past the time of needing a bedtime story as much as I’m sure you have interesting ones for me Cap.” 

At least that got an amused half smile on Steve’s face, the man standing now near the foot of the bed as he just shook his head and looked down at the floor briefly, clearly laughing to himself. 

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll leave you be— but don’t think I won’t check up on you and be sure you’re behaving.” His tone was mocking and yet sincere, and Tony knew that Steve meant what he was saying despite playing it off as a joke.

The same way he guessed he himself had been. 

“Yes mother, goodnight mother.”

Steve turned then, uncrossing his arms and giving a small wave over his shoulder as he chuckled properly this time. 

“Night Stark.”

The door closed behind him and JARVIS automatically dimmed the lights and blackened the windows, leaving Tony alone with just himself in a fair amount of darkness.

Silence.

Lying here on such a wide, cold bed wasn’t really what he wanted to be doing. Tony didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want this time that let his mind swing from one thought to the next flawlessly, going wild and uncontrolled in it’s thought processes that usually left him fearing the worst just before he lost complete control of his conscious thought to sleep.   
And the last thought of fear of having a nightmare usually caused said nightmare to become a reality. At least, a reality to him in which he was dying, loosing air, and his mission- the last act to try save everybody he cared and loved, as well as those unfortunate citizens of the state- was becoming a failure. 

He wasn’t able to save them in his dreams. 

He wasn’t able to save himself. 

The darkness in this room was overbearing, but the light stung his weary eyes. 

At least, that was how things usually went.

Tony called for Jarvis to lighten up the windows again anyway, shutting his eyes and forcing every muscle in his body to relax, an odd sensation racing through each limb as he did so. 

Usually his thoughts took over here but tonight? No, tonight he simply had a blank mind. He was too tired.

God he was tired, and yet he resisted sleep out of habit until the pillows were just too soft and the sheets just too comfortable and his body felt too heavy to move. 

By that point he’d actually forgotten the reason he didn’t want to sleep, too numb and drained to try bother to remember anyway. 

So barely even half an hour after Steve had left him, Tony was asleep, already tangled up in his sheets and for once, having not had any of the usual haunting thoughts before the blissful nothingness took him. 

~**~

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will be up very soon! Please tell me what you think of it so far though!


End file.
